(REVIEW) The horrifyingly addictive Netflix Korean thriller “Squid Game” has become the No. 1 television show in more than 90 countries. But beyond the surprising visuals and horrific violence that touch on an array of themes, the show also has something to say about religion — specifically, Korean forms of Christianity.

The show follows Seoung Gi-hun, a debt-ridden gambler who is struggling to provide for his 10-year-old daughter and elderly mother. Desperate for financial stability, he finds himself playing games of life-and-death in an arena with over 400 participants. If you lose a game, you are gruesomely killed. If you win, you go to the next round, accumulating more money in the process.

One overall theme of the show is greed and how far one would go to be rich or out of debt. It also shines a light on elitism, specifically how the richest of the rich have power over others. These themes are mostly obvious to all watchers around the globe. However, some English speakers or non-Korean natives may miss other underlying themes, such as classism, xenophobia and religion in South Korea.

Approximately 29% of the South Korean population identifies as Christian, with three-quarters Protestant and one-quarter Catholic. An additional 23% of the population is Buddhist, and 46% has no religious affiliation. The Christian movement grew in the ‘70s and ‘80s, made possible by Western influence after the Korean war.

Although 29% is not a large percentage, the power and zeal that Christians — especially Protestants — have in South Korea overshadow that of other religious affiliations, according to The Diplomat. South Korea sends out more Protestant missionaries than any other country besides the United States. Seoul holds more evangelical megachurches than almost every U.S. city, except for Houston and Dallas. Some megachurches in Seoul have more than 100,000 worshippers every Sunday.

The Conversation reports that “large Korean megachurches … support U.S. policy and, like many evangelical and prosperity churches in the U.S., believe that Donald Trump is God’s man.”

Many South Korea Christians pursue avid street evangelism, which “Squid Game” highlights in multiple instances. One street evangelist in the show shouts to passersby, “Believe in Jesus or burn in hell!”

When a man with a suit and briefcase approaches Gi-hun on the subway, Gi-hun tells him, “I come from a very long line of Buddhists,” thinking the man is going to preach Christianity to him. 

The man on the subway actually ends up being the one who introduces Gi-hun to the “squid games.” This is not coincidental. It is almost as if he is preaching redemption to Gi-hun through the games but ends up leading him to harm, fear and misery. This may be a subtle statement in the series concerning Christian conversion: If you follow through with a newfound faith, you may be doing yourself and others harm. 

While in the games, Gi-hun meets a religious player, Player 244, who prays to God for protection and thanks God for keeping him alive. “God made a decision to help our team win,” he says. “That’s why we’re here.”

Another player, Player 240, scorns Player 244 for saying these prayers. “Our father who art in heaven, we worked as a team to (kill people) and send people to your side,” she prays mockingly. “Help us send a lot more to your side.” We learn later that Player 240 grew up in an abusive religious home. Her father was a pastor who severely abused her and her mother.

“When he hit her and did the things he did to me, he would talk to God,” Player 240 tells another player. “He’d always ask for forgiveness. He didn’t pray on the day that he killed her. That was even too much for God, I guess.” But although Player 240 has a tainted view of Christianity, she understands the importance of true sacrifice more than any other player.

At times, Christian leadership has publicly failed in South Korea on the basis of biblical legalism and moralism. Pastors in South Korea don’t believe that Scripture is redemptive but rather “a topical, systematic framework.”

In 2018, one leader of a Korean megachurch was sentenced to 15 years in prison for raping eight female followers because it was “an order from God.” In 2014, the leader of what was then the world’s largest megachurch was convicted of embezzling $12 million. Many megachurch leaders are so wealthy that they have both theological and social power.

Toward the end of “Squid Game,” we learn that the ultimate elite are the ones behind the games and the gruesome murders of individuals. We never learn why they choose to do this, except for additional gambling and entertainment. We also aren’t sure if they are religiously affiliated.

However, most of the VIP elite watchers of the games are white men from the U.S., the ultimate model Christian nation in the eyes of South Koreans. And a key organizer of the games seems to follow a Christ-like trajectory of coming down from his lofty perch to suffer among the contestants in the game.

Christian evangelicalism is the faith of rich men in South Korea, and the “prosperity gospel” is one of their reigning beliefs. If you believe in God, you’ll be rich, successful and happy. 

When the Christian movement began taking off in the ‘70s and ‘80s, so did the economy. Some Korean people interpreted these coinciding trends to mean, “If you’re a Christian nation like America, you can be rich.” Some of this philosophy bled into the various Protestant denominations and is still widely believed by Koreans, but it is also what is turning newer generations away from the church. 

Even if it isn’t through following God, many Koreans still choose to pursue money and wealth. Korean children spend up to 16 hours a day in school, working to get into the best universities. The idolization of success and money in South Korea has led it to have the second-highest suicide rate in the world, and there are reports of South Korean youth being the least happy in the world.

“Squid Game” does an excellent job of speaking to the themes of greed and wealth in an ultra-dramatic yet ultra-human way, which is why the show is so popular in Korea and around the world. Costumes of the masked guards in “Squid Game” proved to be a popular Halloween costume this year.

“Squid Game” emphasizes the somber theme that all people possess some evil by their human nature, no matter what class they are in or what religion they believe in. No matter what side you’re on in the squid games, you’re a sinner. If you’re a player, no redemption can save you from death or the guilt you endure when you kill someone else. If you’re a watcher, you murder innocent people for something as trivial as entertainment. 

The way the series involves flawed evangelicalism under this overarching theme of greed speaks to the growing critical view of Christianity in South Korea. Is there a god or religion that cares to help people experience redemption and salvation over death and debt? Or do they only depend on the earthly success and power of the individual. 

You can give your life to something — a god or a game — that you believe will bring you success, but you may just end up in hell.

Abby Miller is a student at The King’s College in NYC, where she majors in Journalism, Culture and Society. She writes for the student news outlet, The Empire State Tribune, and is on Twitter at @abbylemiller.

This piece first appeared in the Empire State Tribune.